This is my block:
Here's the greengrocer at the end of my block:
The people who live on the street level REALLY LIVE on the street level. As you pass the open doors you see card games being played, meals being cooked, children being parented -- everything so close you could say hello at a conversational volume. Of course, I can't take photos of this. You'll have to take my word for it.
There are a lot of businesses on the block, like this ironwork shop.
This church is empty. The attached building -- the one in front of which the ladies sit -- was a monastery. There are still nuns on the top floor, but the rest of it has been divided into countless little apartments, including mine.
Here's how you get to my apartment from the street. There's a concierge's office on the left, and usually some guys hanging out in front of it.
Take the stairs at the far side of the courtyard:
View of the courtyard:
From the mezzanine you take a series of left and right turns:
That's my apartment on the right.
The church, in ruins, is beyond the double doors at the end of the hall.
My apartment. Not pictured: lovely little kitchenette.
View from balcony at twilight:
It's perfect. How perfect is it? Honestly. Can you stand it? The ONLY drawback is the lady next door, who has gone deaf and simply will not wear a hearing aid. She starts yelling at 7 a.m. That's okay, though -- she's perfect, too.